Love Paradox
by FanGirl0207
Summary: Lance knew that his love is wasted on Morty, yet he still loves him anyway. However, just how much longer can he keep on pretending when he himself is breaking? Neochampionshipping. Lance x Steven. Slight honorshipping. One-sided Lance x Morty.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"What nonsense is this, you fucktard?" Lance eerily asked as he shot the pathetic excuse of a GYM Leader a dangerous glare. He crumpled the paper which he had been reading and tossed it aside, "I asked you to do a job, and this is the result?"

"I-I'm sorry!" Bugsy squeaked, sounding as if he was ready to burst into tears. "They were far too many of them! We couldn't handle them all, and many of us were hurt! We have to retreat!"

"You're a fucking GYM Leader," Lance rose from his seat, his tone lashed with venom. "A few Team Rocket grunts shouldn't be a problem to you!"

And this time, Bugsy did cry. A sob escaped his lips, even though he tried hard to keep it in, and his shoulder shook along. One sob gave way to another, and before long, he was uncontrollably sobbing. "I'm sorry..." he kept on sniffling like a lost little boy. Even though Bugsy had resolved not to cry again this time, all rational thought quickly drained out of him the moment the Dragon Master raised his voice at him, again.

"Get out of here," Lance hissed at him.

Without saying anything else, Bugsy rose from his seat and quickly burst out of the room. Lance could still heard the boy sobbing even after he left. With a sigh, he collapsed back to his seat. "Idiots, everywhere..." he gently massaged his temple, wondering why he was stuck watching over the works of failures.

"Would it kill you to act a little bit nicer, Lance?"

The dragon master's initial instinct is to snap back at whoever it was with a sharp remark. However, he subconsciously recognized that voice, and his instinct settled down. He glanced at the door to his office, and saw a certain blonde-haired GYM Leader standing there, a haunter hovering over his shoulder.

"Morty," Lance murmured out his name, "He is a fucking joke... Several Rocket grunts, and he couldn't take care of them... How did he become a GYM Leader in the first place?"

"He's still very young," Morty replied as he entered the office and closed the door behind him. He sat on the seat across Lance and placed a pile of papers before him. "And not everyone is as strong as you, especially not Bugsy... You have to understand that."

"Because of that idiot, I'll have to spend my evening hunting them down..." Lance grumbled as he grabbed those papers and scanned through them. "Bunch of fucking clowns..."

Morty shook his head, "Lance, you've got to learn how to relax... Why don't you forget about Team Rocket and join me to the bar this evening?"

He ignored his invitation and steered the topic to the matter at hand, "So, aside from that stupid Suicune-maniac, nothing else happened in Ecruteak in the last four weeks?"

"No, nothing..." Morty shook his head.

"What the hell is up with this guy? And why can't you kick his ass and teach him a lesson?"

"He's not exactly bothering anybody, but he's constantly pestering me to help him find Suicune. Do you think I should help him out?"

'You have better things to do..." Lance said, "Morty, I don't want to hear about this guy next month, so you better find a way to deal with him. If I hear about him one more time, I'll come down there personally and murder him, you got me?"

"Alright," Morty nodded in understanding. "So, you don't want to go with me? Falkner's going to be there too, you know... And Karen and Will..."

"Social gathering is not my thing," he replied, "Besides, there's nothing fun in watching you people trying to hit it off with some cheap slut. Honestly, your attempts are pathetic."

Morty rolled his eyes, "You're such a lady-killer, aren't you? Look, I'm just trying to get you to relax. You seem to be stressed out recently, and maybe you haven't had any action on bed for a while..."

Lance quietly sighed as he observed the blonde before him. He eyed those supple lips, soft pale skin, and alluringly slender body. Indecent thoughts ran through his head, but he quickly dismissed it before it went out of hand. _Damn it, if only you knew... _Lance couldn't suppressed a sigh, _heterosexual bastard. _"Get out, Morty..."

"Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find us," he said, "Have a nice day, Lance."

The dragon master watched as he left, before he returned to his work once again. However, he found it hard to focus on his work. The indecent images of a certain ghost-type trainer kept coming back. The more he tried to push it away, the more he can't focus. Finally, he gave up trying to do anything and walked out of his office. Lance wasn't sure how he got so attracted to the blonde. Aside from his cheery demeanor, handsome face, and undeniably sexy body, there was nothing else about him worth noting. Sure, Lance felt much more comfortable when conversing with him, and Morty understood him a little better than the other, but that couldn't be what they call 'love', could it?

"Ridiculous..." Lance muttered to himself as he entered the lounge room.

Inside, Lance saw that Steven and Wallace were sitting side by side on the sofa, with a bunch of paper surrounding them. They seemed to be lost in their discussion and barely noticed that someone else had just entered the room.

_Unrequited love._ That word flashed through Lance's head the moment he saw them together. He didn't know how the words wormed its way to his mind, but it just did, even though the status of Steven's feelings for Wallace was never publicly revealed. Well, Steven was quiet shy anyway, so they might never find out about it. Lance repeated the word in his head as he snatched a mug and headed for the coffee machine. He couldn't help but to wonder if he was in the same position as Steven.

"Oh, Lance, I didn't noticed you entering," Wallace,the water-loving GYM Leader, suddenly said with a cheerful smile.

"Lance, good afternoon," Steven greeted him formally.

"Don't mind me," he told them, "I'm just here for coffee..."

"No, no, sit down, and tell us about your day," Wallace cheerfully said. "We're almost done anyway... I heard Bugsy is crying in the toilet on the third floor, did you make him cry again?"

"He's a fucking joke," Lance sighed as he sat down next to Steven. "He's a GYM Leader but he can't even handle a few Rocket grunts..."

"And what about Whitney? I heard she made a ruckus about quitting this morning."

"Another joke too," Lance replied. "The fool has been abandoning her GYM. I got complaints from ten trainers already... She's fucking around too much."

"Literally?"

"Possibly," Lance sipped his warm coffee.

"Lance, you're actually very competent champion, and truly, I admire you," Wallace offered him a smile. "You can take care of Johto and Kanto at the same time, and still have time to go for undercover missions every now and then... However, I think it'll be nice if you can treat the GYM Leaders a bit nicer."

"Hell would freeze over before that happen..." Lance replied, tired of responding to that question already.

Next to him, Steven was busy reorganizing the papers which had been strewn all across the coffee table. Curiously, he saw one photograph which showed a strangely familiar location. He reached out for it to get a better look. Steven, however, reached out for the photograph at the same time as well, and so Lance ended up grabbing his hand instead.

"Hold it," Lance told him. His hand felt cold and rough, but he didn't have long to ponder on it as Steven quickly pulled away, as if he was afraid of other people's touch.

Steven nervously looked onto the floor as he murmured, "Sorry..."

Why was he apologizing? Lance wondered for a moment, but then decided that it wasn't important. He picked up the photo, and gazed into it for a moment, unaware of the knowing smile which Wallace directed at Steven. The picture showed the interior of a cave he knew all too well, "The Dragon's Den, huh... What are you guys looking for in this place?"

"Oh, it has nothing to do with our work," Wallace replied with a smile. "Steven brought it, he wanted to see if I know how to get in there."

Lance curiously glanced at the silver-haired man, "Why would you want to go in there?" he asked. Lance knew the Dragon's Den like his own backyard. He had spent most of his childhood in there with many of the dragon Pokemon. Even after he became a champion, he still comes to visit regularly.

"Uh, I want to see what's in there..." his voice was soft, his words were chosen carefully, and Lance couldn't help but to wonder if he was that scary.

"Steven likes to explore caves," Wallace explained. "He can't get in there because the Dragon Clan members are guarding the entrance."

"Only those authorized by the Elder can enter..." Steven continued, "He didn't give me permission though... He said the dragon Pokemon wouldn't like my scent..."

"Really?" Lance looked surprised. He heard a lot of craps coming out of his old grandfather's mouth, but that was entirely new to him.

Curiously, he placed down his cup of coffee and leaned closer to Steven.

"L-Lance...?" Steven stammered as he leaned back.

"Hold still," Lance ordered as he grabbed his shoulder and pulled his neck closer to him. He took a whiff, before he let go of his shoulder and pulled back. "Jasmine." He concluded, "That's not a scent that would usually piss off a dragon... He was probably messing around with you." Lance paused when he noticed how red Steven's face has gotten. "Are you okay?"

"I-I'm fine..." Steven replied a moment too soon. He tore his gaze away from Lance, his trembling hands returned to the task of reorganizing the papers. None of these signs went unnoticed by Lance.

Wallace chuckled, "Well, since you're a dragon trainer, perhaps you know the Elder?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Then maybe you can help Steven," Wallace suggested. "I'm sure he'll be really grateful."

He glance at the man sitting next to him. Their gazes met, and Steven broke their eye contact first. The red color has spread from his cheeks, to his ears and down his neck. Lance was neither oblivious nor dense. He knew infatuation when he sees one. How was that possible though? Wasn't Steven supposed to be in love with Wallace? _The hell is going on? _

"Well, what do you think?" Wallace asked again.

"Sure," he said as he kept his gaze fixed at Steven, "I can take you there."

Steven dared himself to look at him, "I-Is it okay with you...?"

"I'm going there next Sunday... I'll meet you at the Pokecenter. What time will you be there?"

"I'll be there at ten... Thank you..."

"At ten. Got it."

Lance finally decided to just ignore him. Even if Steven really holds some feelings for him, Lance wouldn't be interested in the least. Someone like Steven would never come to understand him. Only one person managed to do that, and Lance preferred to keep it that way.

* * *

Morty couldn't stop groaning as he buried his head in his arms.

Lance sat across him, watching in much interest as the blonde tried to recover from his hangover. He played around with the medicine bottle which Morty has yet to drink for a while, before he finally said, "Are you sober enough?"

Morty looked at him, his face was ghastly white, his lips were discolored and his hair was a mess. He snatched the medicine from Lance and drank it down. After he finished the small bottle, he carelessly threw it into the trashcan. However, his vision was still swaying, and it sorely missed. The bottle hit the floor with a loud 'thunk' but it did not break, the sound still made Morty flinched though.

"So... Just how much did you drink?" Lance asked.

"Three, as I recall..." Morty miserably replied.

"You couldn't even handle a shot."

"Don't... Last night was fucking horrible..." he buried his face in his arms again.

"Did those cheap sluts ripped you off?"

Morty did not answer, he just groaned in misery and then fell silent. After a while, he looked at Lance again and asked, "What are you doing in Ecruteak so early?"

Lance shrugged, "Just thought I'll drop by..." he said. "I knew something like this would happen..."

"Thanks for the medicine," Morty said, "I do feel a little bit better..."

"Don't mention it..." Lance looked around the small room for a while. There was a bookshelf with a lot of strange books on it, and on the walls were hung some image of a magic circle. He remembered that Morty was into those kind of supernatural stuff. Lance was never one to believe in the supernatural though, they were all a bunch of nonsense to him. He shook his head, _what the hell do I like about him?_

"Well, since you're here, want me to give you a tour to the twin towers?" Morty offered as he fixed his hair. "Oh, how about the kimono girls? I'm sure you're going to like them all." He flashed him a suggestive smile.

Lance frowned, "I'll pass," he said. "I'm not here for sightseeing... I need to go back soon, there's still a lot of work to do. And if Falkner don't show up today with his monthly report, I might have to bust his GYM door and pluck his bird's feather off one by one..."

"F-Falkner, eh...?" Morty suddenly looked nervous at the mention of that name.

Lance noticed and said, "Did something happen between you two?"

"No, nothing," Morty replied too quickly. He rubbed the back of his nexk and said, "Uhh... don't be harsh with him, okay...? It's not like I care about him, but... Uh, he went out with us last night, and he might still be a little... sick..."

"Something did happen." Lance leaned forward, looking interested. "What happened, Morty?"

"Nothing happened," Morty insisted, his face suddenly turned red.

Lance knew something was up, and he didn't intend to leave until he finds out. They were, however, interrupted when one of Morty's underling knocked on the door. She entered with a worried look on her face, "Morty, sir..." the girl was hesitant, "The strange guy... He's here, again."

"Ahh... Fuck, not him," Morty groaned as he rubbed his temple.

Lance had a good guess on who it was. He rose from his seat and said, "I'll take care of him."

"Hell no, you're going to murder him," Morty stood, and even though he was a bit unsteady on his feet, he quickly regained himself and walked out of the study.

Lance followed close, "I'll let him off with a warning this time, you don't have to worry..."

Morty ignored him though as the finally entered the battleground. On the other side near the entrance, the strange man in white cape stood, a confident smile on his face. "Morty! It's good to see you here!" he greeted casually as he crossed the field. His eyes landed on Lance, but he did not give the dragon master a second glance as he approached Morty. "Wow, you look terrible today, have you been drinking?"

"Yeah," Morty shrugged, "Listen, can you not bother me today? I don't feel so good, and, as you can see, I have a guest right now..." he motioned at Lance.

"He's leaving, isn't he?"

"Eusine, please," Morty shook his head. "Not today..."

"That's what you said yesterday," he pointed out. "Come on, Suicune could be around here today! You've got to help me find it!"

Lance suddenly stepped up and came in between the two men. He gave Eusine his most dangerous glare and said, "So... You're the guy who likes to cause trouble around here..."

"Listen, my business is not with y-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Lance grabbed him by the front part of his shirt and said, "No, you listen to me..." he eerily whispered, and he finally caught the man's undivided attention. "Morty is my GYM Leader... It is my duty to ensure that he's doing his job properly. I heard that you've been bothering him, Eusine, and I don't like it... I am the government, I can mutilate you and nobody would ever find out. Consider this a warning... If you come here one more time to pester Morty..." he smirked evilly, "I will make sure your death will be as painful as possible..."

Eusine would have protested, if it wasn't for the crazed look he saw in Lance's eyes. He heavily swallowed when he realized that Lance wasn't kidding.

"Do we understand each other, Eusine?"

The man with the white cape nodded.

"Good," Lance loosened his grip, "Now get lost, before I change my mind..."

Eusine stumbled backward, he looked as if he was about to say something, but when he saw the seriousness in Lance's eyes, he quickly dropped the idea and briskly paced out of the GYM.

"That was harsh," Morty commented.

"You were too soft, that's why he keeps coming back," Lance replied.

"You're surprisingly a good actor..."

Lance turned to look at him, "I wasn't acting, I really meant it," he said. "If you don't put your whole heart into your threats, it's not going to scare off anyone..."

"So you were serious when you said you were going to murder him?"

"I was."

Morty was nonetheless stupefied, "People do fear you for a reason, don't they?" he shook his head, "Well, thanks anyway... I owe you one. Wanna have breakfast? I'm paying."

"I had breakfast, but coffee would be nice."

"Alright then, let's go."

* * *

Lance arrived at the Violet city GYM late in the afternoon. When he first entered, he was greeted by some of Falkner's underling, who were all lazing around and not seriously traning. Lance knew something was up, and he quickly demanded to see the Leader.

"S-Sorry, sir," the boy with the little pidgey stuttered, "The Leader is not here..."

Lance frowned, "Nice try..." he murmured before he crossed the field and made his way to the living quarter. Idiots, they should have known better, nobody can lie to him. He sees through lie as easy as he can see through glass. When he reached the door, he thought about knocking, but quickly dropped all intentions of courtesy when he was once again reminded that Falkner did try to lie to him.

He opened the door, and quickly found the Violet GYM Leader curled up under his blanket. He looked up when he heard someone entering the room, and his eyes went wide when he saw Lance. "W-What are you doing here?" he nervously rose from his bed. "Lance, uhh... I..."

"You have a lot to explain for, you little fucker..." Lance cuts him off with a dangerous tone. "What the fuck are you doing still in bed? It's late in the afternoon already, your trainers are doing nothing at the moment, and you have yet to hand in your report. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I... I am not feeling well..." Falkner meekly replied.

"Is that all?" Lance raised his voice. "Is that the best you can come up with?"

Falkner looked down on his bed sheets, "I'm sorry..." he murmured. "I... I'm not feeling well..."

Lance was nonetheless tempted to lash out at him, but then he remembered what Morty had said. The gears turned in his head, something must have happened between them, something that made Morty felt guilty, and Falkner ill. A bad feeling overcame him, his guts told him that it all looked so fishy. Finally, he decided that he would get his answer from Falkner, no matter what kind of dirty trick he had to resort to.

He pulled a chair and sat down not far from the bed. "Is it because of Morty?"

A surprised look found its way to Falkner's face. Bull's eye.

"I heard about it from Morty," Lance lied. "It is true that you were the one who started it?"

Falkner clenched his fists tight, "It wasn't me..." he angrily hissed. "He was the one who started it... He was the one who molested me first!"

Those words struck Lance hard. He was silently grateful for his years of experience in undercover missions, for it taught him how to keep a calm face even at times like this. He observed Falkner, wondering if he just said a lie, but the anger... that anger could not have been a lie. He folded his arms, and said, "I know Morty, he's not the kind of person who would do something so shameless..."

"Well, apparently, he's gay! And he nearly raped me last night!" Falkner angrily shouted. "He told you that I started it? How dare he!"

No, that wasn't possible. As far as he was concerned, Morty was straight. As straight as an arrow. He chased after chicks and sluts and whores. He talked about women, and the kind of wife he wanted to end up with in the future. Lance knew that, Morty told him once. So then... Why? Why did someone like him attack Falkner? Lance studied the face before him for a moment. There was nothing about his features which could be labelled as attractive, nothing at all. Perhaps Morty was just too drunk?

"Are you sure that his actions were really offensive?"

Falkner nodded, "He... he..." the bird-type trainer seemed to find it hard to use the right word. "K-Kiss me..." his voice got considerably lower. "And he... Ugh, I can't say it!"

"One more question... Was he truly drunk when he did it?"

"He drank a lot..." Falkner admitted, "But that was still no reason to do... those things!"

Lance sighed, "Fine... I will overlook your blunders only for today. I expect you to come by tomorrow with the monthly report, have I made myself clear?"

Falkner nodded.

"One more thing," Lance said as he stopped in front of the door. "I suggest you stay away from Morty..."

And without another word, he left the room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"You're doing a surprisingly good job this month," Lance murmured as he scanned once again through Jasmine's report. "You always make a point to ever trifling problem to me..."

"Well, uh... Everything is going well this month, so..."

"Bla, bla, sure..." he sighed as he placed the paper away. "You're dismissed."

Jasmine hesitated for a moment, she looked as if she wanted to say something. Lance noticed her hesitation and gave her a look, she quickly rose from her seat and left the room. Sometimes he wondered what kind of woman hate herself enough to want to throw herself at him. The thought was quickly driven away from his mind though by a more pressing situation. Morty. The man who he had admired so long, the man he thought he would never be able to reach, the man he thought was as straight as an arrow, molested Falkner after several shots of drink.

Morty was drunk, it could have been a mistake, but the way he acted last morning when Lance brought up Falkner's name told him that something was amiss. It wasn't just a mistake, nothing Morty could end with just simply apologizing, there was something else to it, and it was clear in his eyes. Deep inside, Lance had a good guess on what it might be, but he feared to entertain that idea.

"Not possible..." he told himself after a while, but the idea persisted, and the more he tried to ignore it, the more persistent it become. Finally, he dared himself to take a glimpse at the possibility. Did Morty like Falkner? It was ridiculous, no doubt, Falkner was a pain-in-the-ass kind of guy, according to Lance, and there was just no way Morty could have feelings for that bratty bird-trainer. Still, there was the look he saw in Morty's eyes that morning, and it was enough to shatter his self-assuring thoughts.

He didn't know for how long he sat there like that, but when he finally snapped out of it, he realized that Steven was already in his office.

"Hey, are you alright?" the younger champion asked, concern in his voice.

Lance blinked for a moment, "When...?" he murmured.

"I knocked on the door, but you didn't notice," Steven said, "The President sent me here.. He wanted me to ask your opinion on this," he said as he placed a file on his table. "It's our plan for tracking down Team Aqua's loyalists... They have been active lately, and Wallace suspected that a new leader might have taken over."

"That's impossible," Lance sighed as he picked up the file and scanned through it. "Team Aqua's a bunch of joke, who would want to lead them again...?"

"Unlike the previous leader, this one seems to be driven by profit motives," Steven replied. "They're now taking part in illegal Pokemon trading, scamming and other activities which threatened Hoenn... We agree that we have to bring down this new leader immediately."

His lazy eyes scanned through the pages for a moment, before he finally nodded and said, "This is a solid plan, considerately made too... Yeah, this will work out..." he said before he carelessly threw the file back onto his desk. "Good job, keep that up and you'll be fine..."

"Thank you," Steven said. He paused for a moment, and then said, "You look rather unwell..."

Lance turned his chair away from him and sighed, "Am I?" he tried to infuse sarcasm, but he barely had the energy left to do so. He had never felt so drained, maybe it was the consequence of thinking too much about Morty.

"Yes, are you tired...?"

He was never one to admit his weakness before his colleagues, and so he said, "Get. Out. You're done here, aren't you?"

"... Yes."

"Then go. I have other matters to attend to."

"I see... Sorry for being a bother," Steven said, and he exited the room without another word.

He glanced at the door after Steven had left, and wondered if the internal conflict showed prominently on his face. He never let that happen before, he kept things to himself, and that was the way he liked it. After a moment of reflection, he decided that what he needed was a little fresh air. He picked up his cape and whipped out his phone.

"Yes, Alice? I need to let off some steam, got anything that have to go 'boom' tonight?" he paused as he listened to the reply from the other end. "Team Rocket warehouse, Five Island. Got it."

* * *

Lance was humming for the first time in a while when he returned to the League that night. The day went well for him, and even though he was tired from all the fighting, he was once again calm. Risky missions and immediate danger always induce such inexplicable euphoria into his system, and it would usually last for several hours. Sometimes, he felt grateful that Team Rocket was there in the first place, otherwise, someone like him who constantly needs to feed on danger would have been a serial drug abuser instead. Or maybe even worse.

He headed to his room as soon as he dismounted from Dragonite. The halls were silent and dark, there were only members of the Elite Four sleeping in the dorm, and all of them usually fell asleep after midnight. Bruno's snore could be heard as Lance walked pass his room, and he was internally grateful that he wasn't given Will's room. How the psychic-master could sleep through that noise, only Archeus knew.

When he approached his room at the far end, however, he noticed a figure standing in front of his door. Even though the surrounding was kind of dark, his eyes were sharp, and nobody could ever really mistaken that blonde hair for another. He chuckled to himself as he approached, "Morty..." he called out the name. "What are you doing here?"

Morty, who had been leaning against the wall, straightened up and face him. "I need to speak with you." His tone was stiff, there was no friendliness in it.

"Sure, come on in," Lance smiled as he led the way into his room. He opened the door and turned on the light, revealing the grand bedroom which he had been given the privilege to sleep in as a Champion. He unclasped his cape and pokebelt, and threw them all carelessly on his bed. "Would you like something to drink?" he offered.

"No, thank you," Morty said as he stood by the door. Under the bright light of his room, Lance could make out the tension on his shoulder and the emotions in his eyes.

Lance opened the drawer of his bedside table and pulled out a bottle of wine. He poured himself a glass, and took his time enjoying the drink. Morty didn't say a word, and Lance decided to go ahead and asked, "So, what do you want to talk about?"

"... I went to Falkner this morning," Morty told him. "And he was furious at me."

Lance feigned a look of mock surprise, "Oh really?"

Morty clenched his jaw, "Why...? Why did you do that?"

Lance placed down his glass and turned to him, "Because I was curious, that's all." He offered Morty a smile.

Morty blinked, something about Lance wasn't right. At that moment, he felt that he wasn't talking to the grumpy Lance who he knew so well. He was as different person, and he was tempted to ask if he had been abusing drugs, but then he decided that it wasn't important. "It was none of your business," Morty hissed.

"Morty, Morty," Lance sighed as he shook his head and approached the blonde GYM Leader. He stood close to him, too close for Morty's liking. "What are you so pissed about, hm?" he tilted his head as he smiled, "It's just Falkner, the pathetic GYM Leader who got beaten by amateur trainers regularly. Why does it matter to you? It's only him."

"He's my friend," Morty stood still, unfazed by their closeness. "And don't you talk about him like that. He lets trainers win on purpose to encourage them to strive forward! You who can only abuse people mercilessly until they cry has no right to say anything about him! He's a great person!"

Lance smirked, "A great person, eh?" he leaned forward, and Morty unconsciously pulled back. The ghost-trainer felt uncomfortable for some reason, something about Lance wasn't right. He took a step back, and was surprised that his heel hit the door. A dark chuckle escaped from Lance's throat. The dragon master suddenly slammed his right hand against the door, right next to Morty's head. Morty flinched, and there was discomfort in his eyes. He was trapped, like a prey. "So tell me, Morty..." he whispered with his low, seductive voice, "Do you jerk off to him every night before going to bed?"

The discomfort was quickly replaced by anger, "What the fuck, you sick bastard!" he tried to push Lance away, but he found that Lance's footing was much sturdier than it seemed. "Get away from me!"

"My, my," Lance inched closer, "And here I always thought that you're hetero... So, Falkner, hm? Who would have thought..."

Gradually, Morty's face turned red, and Lance couldn't hit the spot much more accurately.

"Is this your first time falling for another man?" Lance asked, and Morty's silence could only further entertain him. "Want me to teach you a few things? You know... I've always fancy that body of yours..." he shamelessly admitted. There was boldness in his voice, and in his moves as well. He leaned in, and landed a kiss on Morty's ear, "I want to lay your quivering body down by the fireplace..." his right hand traveled down to his chest, "I want to make love with you until you feel the desire which I've buried for sooo long..." his fingers playfully drew circles on his inner thigh, "I want to _ravish_ you while you beg for me to go harder, rougher..."

"Get... away..." Morty whined, "Please..."

Lance smirked when he heard the fear in his voice. He decided to pull away , and walked over to his bed. Without a second thought, he collapsed on it, "Archeus, I am so tired..." he said as he closed his eyes. "Well, I apologize for putting a strain in your relationship... It's just that I like you, and I'm curious, that's all."

Morty didn't say a word.

"Turn off the lights when you leave..." Lance said as he grabbed a pillow and placed it over his head.

Soon, sleep claimed him, and when he woke up the next morning, the lights were still on.

It didn't matter to him though, for when he remembered what he said last night, colorful curses escaped his lips.

* * *

Aside from Koga, nobody had ever seen him in his euphoria state. He always returned from a mission a few hours before dawn, at the time when everybody except for ninjas should be asleep. Anyone who saw him would assume that he went out drinking, but Lance rarely drinks, his father was an abusive alcoholic drinker, and he had vowed not to follow his father's footsteps. Instead, to indulge himself, he would place himself in the middle of a war ground.

To him, there was nothing more enjoyable than the sound of his erratic heartbeat, the sensation of adrenaline rushing through his veins, and the deafening sound of his internal alarm singing out for danger. And then there was the joy of watching other people kneel before him in defeat, begging for mercy like a good little pet. His body would shiver with excitement, his mind filled with bliss undefined, his instinct driven wilder and wilder as blood stained the battle ground...

Still, the bliss was short-lived, and that morning, he was in a worse state than before.

It didn't help that Falkner finally came in with his monthly report, an angry look in his eyes. Lance figured that they have both worked it out somehow. He scanned through the report, looking for anything he could use as an excuse to verbally abuse him before Falkner could lashed out. Irritatingly, his report was just fine, nothing out of the ordinary happened. And his budget expenditure wasn't suspicious as well.

"You are supposed to come in with this yesterday," Lance said as he placed down the report. "Where were you?"

Bravely, the bird-trainer looked at him in the eyes, "I was with Morty... We were working out our misunderstanding."

"And it took you the whole day?"

"... I came during the evening, you weren't there."

"Yeah, I wasn't... But I expected you to be here early."

Falkner visibly clenched his fists, "Well, I _apologize_, _Champion,_" he hissed through gritted teeth.

Lance glared at him, and Falkner flinched, but the bird-trainer persisted on glaring back. They intensely glared at one another for a moment, before Lance decided that it was pointless to argue with an angry man. "You're dismissed."

Falkner did not move.

Lance glared again, "Do I have to repeat myself?"

"... Why did you lie to me?"

Lance groaned as he looked away, "Get. Out." he hissed at the younger man.

"I thought Morty was a jerk, I thought you were nice for trying to understand the situation... I thought wrong, didn't I?"

"Get out before I _tear_ you apart!"

Falkner once again flinched at the sudden harsh tone. Begrudgingly, he stood from his seat, "You're a jerk, you know that, Lance?" after saying those words, he turned around, and exited the office.

It took Lance all his willpower to focus back on his work.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

He arrived several minutes before ten at the Blackthorn Pokemon center on that day. Despite dressing the same way as every other day, he looked much more disheveled than usual, his eyes looked tired and his intimidating aura gone, he looked like a man who just had recovered from a very bad hangover. Still, his steps remained firm and strong as he made his way to the waiting area.

Steven was reading a magazine when Lance approached. He quickly put it away when he noticed him. He thought of greeting him politely, but one look at his face, and all thought of common courtesy drained out of him. "Have you been drinking?" that question slipped out of Steven's mouth. There wasn't any accusation in his voice, Lance noted, but concern instead.

"No," Lance replied, his tone indicating that he wished for him to remain silent. He turned around before he made sure Steven understood, and walked out of the Pokemon center. Ever since his meeting with Morty and Falkner yesterday, he hadn't been able to get them out of his mind. He wasn't as concerned about Falkner as he was about Morty, but the concern was still there nonetheless. Sadly, it kept him awake for the better part of the night, and when his alarm went off, he had barely slept for several minutes.

Coffee helped to rouse him, but he was still tired nonetheless.

"You know..." Steven suddenly said as they walked together towards the Dragon's Den. "If you're still tired, we can do this some other time..."

"Just shut up," Lance told him, and that was enough to made him remain silent for the rest of their walk. Of course he would rather be in bed, considering how tired he was. However, his bed provided no comfort. The thought of what happened in that room two nights ago kept coming back at him, and he wondered how he would face Morty later on. Things would definitely get awkward, and Lance hated awkward situations more than he hated a whiny Karen. _What would I say to him? Will he listen to me? Archeus, things will definitely change between us. I was such a fool... Damnit._

Finally, they reached the lake which separated them from the entrance of the Dragon's Den. Not far, the Blackthorn GYM could be seen, and Steven admired the view for a moment as Lance sent out his Gyarados. He stepped onto his trusted Pokemon's back, and held out his hand for Steven's. "Come..."

Steven took his hand, "Are you sure about this...? You don't look so good..."

"I will drown you in this lake if you say that one more time," Lance growled at him with a scowl on his face.

Once again, Steven fell silent as Gyarados crossed the lake with relative ease. When they landed on the other side by the entrance, a middle-aged man suddenly approached them.

"Young master!" the man cried out. "You look horrible! Whatever happened to you?"

Lance shook his head as he groaned, "Just stepped out of the way, Orson," he said with a tired sigh.

"You came early, did you stop by your grandfather's? You know he worries about you, right?"

"Orson," Lance raised his tone, "One more word. And I will make sure you'll be stationed here permanently!"

The man quickly shut his mouth, and Lance motioned Steven to follow him inside.

"He called you 'young master'..." Steven commented. "Lance, are you...?" he wanted to ask, but he dropped the idea when he saw the irritated look on Lance's face. Clearly, the red-haired man wasn't only tired, but on the brink of exploding as well. The atmosphere between them became very tense and uncomfortable, and Steven wondered if it was him who caused Lance to be in such a foul mood. That idea was unlikely, however, for if Lance found him to be a bother, then he wouldn't have showed up. Something else must have been on his mind.

All concern for the older man, however, was quickly drained out of his mind when they arrived at the lake in the middle of the den. He stared in amazement and wonder at the beautiful sight before him.

"That shrine," Lance suddenly spoke, his tone much calmer, "Don't go in there... Something is kept there, and you're better off not knowing. Be careful around these parts too, there are many wild Pokemon... The stronger ones are deep inside, don't go there alone, it's too dangerous."

Steven nodded, "Thank you..."

"Well, run along now, and don't get into trouble," Lance motioned him to get lost, before he headed for the dark corner of the cave.

Steven watched as the dragon master unclasped his cape, spread it onto the ground, and laid down on it. The sight was indeed a strange one to see, but Lance was familiar to the area, he had slept on that very spot for countless of times. There were comforts that a bed and a luxurious room cannot simply provide. Some time passed, before a long, slender dragonair emerged suddenly out of the water, and approached the sleeping figure. Steven thought of warning him, but quickly dropped the idea when he saw the long dragon slipping its body under Lance's head and acted like a pillow for him. The dragon affectionately purred as it laid its head on Lance's chest, and as Lance gently placed one of his hand on its head.

He would have watched a little bit longer if not for the pointed look the dragonair gave him, as if saying, _What are you looking at? _

Steven then turned around and began exploring the cave.

* * *

There was nothing in that cave aside from its scenic lake. Steven could extract no precious stones, nor could he find anything worthwhile.

"Well, I guess there's really nothing here," Steven muttered as he took one last photograph with his camera, and inspect the result. Nothing good was on the photo, and he sook his head in dismay. Beside him, his partner lairon looked disappointed as well. "Don't be so sad," he comforted it, "I'm sure we'll have better luck next time." He glanced at his watch, and foudn that it was evening already. He frowned as he inwardly scolded himself once again for letting time passed by unnoticed. It wasn't like he had anything planned, but he never liked it when time flew by.

With a sigh, he withdrew lairon and made his way back to the lake.

Once he got there, he found that Lance hadn't moved at all. He was still laid there, unmoving, possibly sleeping. The dragonair was still acting as his pillow as well. There were more dragons around him than before though, and Steven was surprised nonetheless. There was one dragonite sitting by his head, and two more dragonair curled up by his side. One dratini shared Lance's chest with the first dragonair, its eyes closed and its body breathing in rythm with Lance.

Lance woke when he heard footsteps approaching. He cracked open his heavy lids, and mentally ordered the dragon Pokemon to get off. As if they could read minds, and Lance suspsected that they could, they all got off his body. Groggily, he propped himself up and rubbed his eyes. When his vision cleared, he found Steven standing not far from him, holding up a water bottle in his right hand.

"Thirsty?" Steven asked.

Lance nodded and received the bottle. Only then did he realize how dehydrated he was. He gulped down all the water in there, before handing it back to Steven.

"You done?" Lance asked before he let out a yawn.

"Yeah," Steven nodded. "And how are you? Feeling better already?"

Lance nodded, "Yeah, better," he said as he got on his feet. All the dragon Pokemon surrounded him, somehow looking at him with affection in their eyes. He ignored them as he pcked up his cape and dusted it off.

"They seem to like you a lot..." Steven commented.

"No shit," Lance murmured as he clasped his cape. He studied Steven for a moment as he recalled how rudely he had treated him earlier in the morning. He thought about apologizing, but that just wasn't him. So he just shook his head, and said, "I spent a greater part of my time here when grandfather took me in... I am much closer to them than I am with that old man..."

"Grandfather? You mean the Elder?"

"Yes," Lance sighed as he rolled his eyes, "I am his grandson..." he then turned his attention to the dragons and rubbed one of the dragonair's head. It purred in satisfaction, before it turned and dived into the lake. The other two dragonair then followed, with the small dratini trailing behind. The dragonite spread out its wing, and disappeared deep into the cave. Lance watched at the dratini slithered slowly to the lake, and did not move until it finally plunged in.

There was silence between them, and Lance lazily waited for Steven to say something, his mind still hazy from his sleep.

"Why didn't you get along with him?" Steven finally asked, breaking the silence.

"... He wasn't the kind of grandfather who like to spoil his grandson. He did that with my mother, and..." he trailed off. "She didn't end up well. He hammered discipline into me, and that was it."

"I'm sorry to hear that..."

Lance gave him a look, his mind suddenly snapped clear, "I don't need your sympathy," he half-growled, and Steven flinched.

"Sorry..."

Lance inwardly groan as he realized that he had, once again, acted unnecessarily rude to a man who had barely done him any wrong. However, it was true that he loathed sympathy. _I shouldn't have answered that question..._

"Well, did you find anything?" he decided to ask.

"Uh, the scenery here is fine..." Steven replied, avoiding his gaze.

"... Are you done?"

"Yes."

"Good, then let's get out of here..."

Lance led the way out of the cave, and Steven followed. Outside, the sky was getting dark, and then man who was guarding the entrance earlier had been replaced by another middle-aged man who was smoking out there in the open. He ignored them as they walked out of the cave. Gyarados suddenly emerged from the water, and Lance got on first. Once again, he held his hand out to the younger man.

"Come on..." Lance said.

Steven took his hand, and was about to get on, however, his footing suddenly slipped, and he found himself falling towards the dragon master.

"Ah!"

Lance quickly reacted and caught him. His heart skipped a beat when he found that Gyarados' wet body provided little to no friction, and that he too had lost footing.

The two then fell into the water.

* * *

When they got off the other side, they were both soaked wet to the boots. Water were dripping down from their bodies, and the cold wind that blew over them caused Steven to sneezed.

Lance grumbled as he swept his hair back. "Archeus, you just have to slip, didn't you?"

"I'm sorry," Steven said apologetically.

Lance mumbled something incoherent as Steven once again sneezed.

"Lance? Is that you?" a feminine voice rang through the air.

They both turned around, only to find that a certain blue-haired female GYM Leader was staring at them in shock. A dragonair hovered not far behind her, looking much more elegant and radiant compared to the dragonair back in the Den. She and her dragon approached them.

"You didn't tell me you're in town," Clair said to her cousin. "Why are you wet?"

"Can't you tell?" Lance said with an annoyed expression on his face.

"Well, excuse me for being nice," Clair snapped back, before she turned her attention to Steven. "And who's this? A friend of yours?"

"A colleague," Lance shrugged.

"S-Steven," the younger man stuttered for the cold had seeped into his marrow. "Steven Stone."

"Ah, you're the new Champion of Hoenn..." Clair nodded thoughtfully. "You look awfully cold... Why don't you two come to the house?" she said as she pointed at the huge mansion located on top of the hill not far. "The maids could wash your clothes while you stay over for the night. What do you say?"

"N-No, it's fine," Steven politely turned down, "I can go to the Pokemon center and get a room."

"It's late, I'm sure they're out of room already." Clair reasoned.

"I'll just g-go and check," Steven said. "Thank you for you offer though, it's very kind of you."

Clair studied him for a moment, before she turned to look at Lance, "And I suppose you're not coming with me too?"

Lance shook his head, "No."

"It's been years since you come back to the house, you know..." she sighed at his stubbornness, "You've got to visit grandfather for once. He's worried about you."

"Well, we better go now," Lance suddenly declared as he withdrew his Gyarados. "Don't want to miss the last room..." he then grabbed Steven by the wrist and pulled him away, "Goodbye."

Surprised, Steven nearly stumbled when Lance forcefully jerked him away. Thankfully, he managed to regain his balance and kept up with Lance's brisk pace. Lance kept on holding onto his wrist as they made it into the Pokemon center, and only let go when Nurse Joy gave them a key to a room while winking suggestively.


End file.
